Giving You Your 'Never Again'
by Kaikamahine Mai Hawai'i
Summary: Response to NicolinaN's challenge in "A Beginning in a Way". After a rough few weeks which results in a blowout fight, Jackson resolves to give Lisa the "never again" she's always wanted.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, everyone! This follows Nic's challenge that she issued in "A Beginning in a Way", and here are the lines I'm REFERENCING in these first two chapters (not plagiarism, Bunnies, Seal of Approval, remember?) I'll be adding a third chapter, but am posting now due to Bunnies-Made-Me-Do-It's insistence.

--

_They had watched the sun set. The day had been unbearably hot; a Tuesday in June somewhere near a little ghost of a town called Woodruff in Arizona. Now, as the air cooled off, the roof still radiated the pooled heat, warming their tired bodies. Peace surrounded them, an unexpected, but most welcome change from the never ending battles, the grandest of them yesterday when HE had found himself with his large knife to her slender throat, his vision clouded with anger, and SHE had found herself with HIS gun to HIS temple, trembling, furious, but determined to live._

--

_"What do we do?" She grabbed his arm. "Jackson. I'm so tired of running. We haven't even slept here one night yet, and it's late. Can't we just wait it out and see what happens? Maybe they won't come after us? Maybe they're too busy with whatever they're doing?"_

_He pursed his lips as he regarded her for a few moments. Then he cocked his head. "Hang tight, huh? You'd dare to take the chance?"_

_She stared back at him, seemingly considering the options, then she nodded. "Yeah. I dare." She dove into his bag and came back up with blue, heavy steel, weighing it in her hand. "Besides… I know how to use this."_

_The corner of his mouth lifted into half a smile. God, you're beautiful! Yeah, he'd seen her use it. They'd spent a whole day at a shooting range a while back. He'd said he never wanted her to miss again. Like she did with him once… And Lisa had been frightening._

_"You never change, do you? Gun-slinging Lisa."_

_--_

Also, this series has a video made by animepeople01 on YouTube. Go to my profile to access the link. Thanks!

* * *

Jackson watched as Lisa steadied herself, taking deep breaths as he'd instructed, keeping her feet approximately shoulder-width apart. After a few seconds, she narrowed her eyes, took a breath, and fired.

The report boomed in his ears, despite the protective earplugs. He squinted at the target at the end of the range. It was hard to tell where she had hit from this distance. He tapped her on the shoulder, then pointed to the button next to her to retrieve the target. She pressed it, and they waited as the human figure outlined on the paper target approached, gliding along the pulley cables. Jackson pulled the earplugs out, and motioned for her to do the same.

"Fuckin' nice, Leese!" he whispered appreciatively, looking at the target. She had shot the gun twelve times, hitting within the bullseye eight of the twelve. The other four shots lay just outside the kill zone.

"Okay, can we go now? My arms are killing me and I stink like gunpowder." Jackson admired Lisa's lethal skill once more, noting the dots ripped through the red circle on the paper.

"You could've made a killing as one of my associates, you know?" His lips curled into a smile, and Lisa rolled her eyes at his lame attempt at a joke.

"I'm leaving, with or without you," she muttered, turning on her heel.

-  
-

**_The Scenic Route_**

Lisa had been on an outdoorsy kick ever since they had visited the Pacific Northwest two weeks ago. In rare form one afternoon after a Skittles and Orange Shasta binge, she had heard "Live Like You Were Dying" on the radio, and decided that there were "things and places she simply _had_ to do and see" ... which resulted in a lot of logged miles on the Civic they had 'acquired'.

While staying up late and making out her list of places to go and things to do, she happened across some chick flick that was running on HBO. Jackson had paid little attention to it, until Lisa had suddenly found the idea of "being in two places at the same time" utterly fascinating, and decided she wanted to do the same. They took the obligatory picture with the Canadian Mounties and crossed back into the United States into Blaine, Washington after a two-day expatriate trip. Remembering Lisa's wish, Jackson had pulled a few hundred yards into the U.S., traveled a short distance to a small street called Harvey Road, pulled to the end of it, and turned off the car. Lisa had given him a questioning look, before Jackson explained that she had wanted a "two-fer", and pointed out that the U.S-Canada border was still only a few dozen feet away from the car. Lisa had bolted out of the Civic, checked quickly for Border Patrol, and happily put one foot into Canada, while leaving the other planted firmly in the States. She was in two places at once.

Following that had been 'detour' to Mount Saint Helens National Monument, where they saw entirely too much of a lustful teenaged couple just off of one of the scenic trails, which caused Jackson to be a smart-ass and call out loudly to the two, asking _why_ were they making so much noise and did one of them had asthma, because they sure were panting hard. Lisa had never been so embarrassed in her life. They continued following the Cascade Mountain Range, and Lisa soon had a digital camera loaded with pictures of random things: a mushroom caught in a golden ray of light in southern Washington; a watering can filled with flowers in Salem, Oregon; a sunset over the lake in Nampa, Idaho.

They had traveled the scenic route across the American West, with Jackson complaining about the heat and Lisa snapping photos left and right. She even had a rare "Collector's Edition" photo, as she had dubbed it, of Jackson smiling. They had ended up fishing in one of Lisa's many requested stops, and he actually caught the biggest damned catfish he'd ever seen in his life --- for a total of three seconds, before it finned him and he dropped it off the wooden pier, back into the lake. Lisa had snapped the picture just as he had hauled it in. His mood had gone south during the remainder of that evening.

-  
-

The pair had continued traveling eastward, before swinging back north, and headed toward Glacier National Park in Montana. As much as he hated to admit it, Jackson wanted to see it, too. Lisa's always-bright mood had started to become infectious, and he even found himself smiling of his own accord on occasion. When they finally arrived at their destination, Lisa had been ready, camera in hand, and nearly dragged him along one of the designated trails. It wasn't long before Jackson began to get a gnawing feeling of paranoia in his gut, and found himself scanning the crowds more and more frequently from behind his shades. Lisa was oblivious, snapping photos of a little girl just ahead of them, as the toddler stared in wonder at the environment around them.

Jackson had seen the hitman then, following from a safe distance. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he realized the man was staring directly at him and Lisa, not noticing that Jackson was returning the gaze from behind the dark sunglasses. The crowd had thinned, and he suddenly felt very, very vulnerable. He turned abruptly and grabbed Lisa by the arm, yanking her toward the Visitor Center.

"What are you doing? Jackson! Let go of my arm!" Lisa hissed, trying not to cause a scene. His grip hurt, and she was willing to bet money that she would have bruises that evening.

"We're being followed, Leese," Jackson replied coolly, cursing himself for not bringing a weapon. It was a stupid, stupid mistake, and if he lived through it, he'd try his damned hardest to make sure he never forgot again. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, seeing the man pulling something out of his jacket. "Shit, Leese!" He ducked around the side of the Visitor's Center, yanking Lisa with him, just as a bullet embedded itself into the side of the building where Lisa had been standing a split-second earlier. A few people turned, hearing a noise, but unsure of its source. "Come on, we've gotta hide." He yanked her into the tourist group leaving the building, and the two disappeared into the crowd. They left Glacier National Park and the Honda Civic behind that afternoon.

-  
-

**_'Never Again'_**

Jackson tried watching the Red Sox game in the hotel room, but found that he couldn't keep himself from becoming distracted with other thoughts. It had been close. Too close. The assassins that he suspected were following them nearly shot Lisa, taking a chunk out of the side of the building he had pulled her behind at the last second. They had blended into a tourist group within seconds, and their assassins hadn't shown neither hide nor hair since. That had been three days ago, at Glacier National Park. Now, they were in Coeur D'Alene, had just returned from the shooting range, and despite Lisa's marksmanship, Jackson was nervous.

If he had waited a split-second longer before pulling himself and Lisa to safety, one of them would've been killed, severely wounded at the very least. The thought of not having Lisa tagging along on their haphazard journey made him sick, even though she got on his damn nerves every other day. He didn't want to chance getting shot either, leaving Lisa defenseless. If he was hit, Lisa would be dead shortly thereafter, which prompted the trip to the shooting range. He showed her basic techniques, proper hand position, and how to take the recoil. Her first attempts had been awful, and Jackson kept imagining their target being a live assassin, ready to gun both of them down, with Lisa missing horribly.

"I don't care how skittish you are, Leese," he had growled, pulling her arm back up into firing position, "If you hesitate, if you stop to take a breather, if you _blink_ ... he _will_ shoot you. And he'll probably have a hell of a lot more practice than you." He kicked her foot, knocking it back into place so that she didn't topple backward from the recoil like she nearly had the first few times. "So, I want you to imagine that _that_ target, all the way down there, is one of the less-than-savory characters we've met as of late. It's five, hell, ten years down the road. You're married, you've got your white picket fence around the front yard, and two kids sleeping upstairs. And then ... _he_ breaks into your house." He pointed to the target waiting at the end of the range. "He's got one thing on his mind: get what he came for, and get rid of whoever's in his way."

Lisa had shuddered and cast him a sidelong glance. "What am I supposed to do then, if he's hell-bent on getting what he wants?" Jackson gave her a sad smile and shrugged.

"If you're in that situation, Lisa, where you're protecting yourself and the people you care about, there's only one thing you can do." She looked at him expectantly. "You make sure _you don't miss._"

That had been earlier in the day, and Lisa had apparently taken his words to heart, showing impressive determination, which paid off. He looked up as she exited the bathroom, freshly-showered. She noticed the baseball game on the TV and Jackson's apparent disregard for it. "I thought ... you said you wanted to watch the game?"

Jackson sighed as Lisa sat on the bed next to him, turning down the blankets. "I can't keep focused on it, I've got too much shit running through my head right now." Lisa frowned, noting how he had seemed on edge the past few days.

"You're thinking about what happened a few days ago, in Montana, aren't you?" she asked. Jackson nodded.

"Do me a favor, Leese?" He turned, looking at her pleadingly. "If you're in that life-or-death situation we talked about earlier ..."

"Yeah?"

Jackson took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose before responding. "Don't hesitate. I never want you to miss an easy shot, like the ones earlier, ever again. Hesitating will get you killed."


	2. Chapter 2

**_How Battle Mountain Was Won ... Or, At Least, Negotiated_**

Jackson watched the highway stretch out in long, unending waves of simmering asphalt before him. The heat was stifling, even though the windows were down in the small Pontiac. He looked over and saw that Lisa had her hair pulled back in a messy bun, and was suffering from the unending heat as well. It'd been slightly cooler in Coeur D'Alene a week and a half ago, but here, the Nevada sun had burnt everything it had touched. As the temperature rose, the amiable air between them had evaporated, turning their friendly demeanors toward each other into a storm of contention, ready to break open at any minute.

"We'll pull over and spend the night in the next town, Leese, don't worry," Jackson said, raising his voice slightly over the heated breeze whipping through the car. He felt grimy, no doubt from the dust in the air that had made its way into the car. His sunglasses seemed to be coated with a fine film of the tiny sandy granules, but it was hard to tell when they kept sliding down his nose on a slick layer of sweat. Sighing, Jackson pulled the shades off, hooked his pinky around them, and pinched the collar of his t-shirt between his thumb and forefinger before pulling it up and wiping the perspiration off of his face. As he slid the glasses back on, he noticed Lisa was still staring at the baked landscape out the window. "Did you hear me, Lisa?"

Lisa's head turned suddenly, and Jackson could see that her bottom lip was swollen -- a sure sign she had been nibbling on it. "Hmm?" Her eyes were wide, as if fearing she had just missed a crucial detail of an evil plan. Jackson gave a small laugh, affording her one more quick glance before he turned his eyes back to the dusty road.

"I said we're going to be stopping at the next town." She nodded at that, turning her eyes back to the hills that stood in the distance to the west of Highway 80, the maddeningly straight and dusty road they'd been on for hours. The sun had finally disappeared behind the hills on her side, but still touched the tops of the ones on Jackson's. She didn't care, though, she enjoyed the sunset, watching as it turned the sky an orange hue, reminding her of Tang. A few clouds littered the evening sky, turning gold on the bottom, and reddish-purple in their crevices.

"Where're we gettin' off at?" she asked, turning in her seat to face forward again. She pulled her haphazard bun out of its elastic band, shaking her tresses out lightly. She felt sweaty and dirty, and all she wanted to do at that point was to take a shower and climb into bed. The heat had sapped her energy and made her cranky, but she was doing a good job at controlling her temper, so far. A sign appeared ahead, proclaiming "BATTLE MTN, NEXT EXIT".

"Battle Mountain, looks like," Jackson replied, moving to the right hand lane.

-  
-

Lisa slammed the car door behind her, quickly pulling her hair back into another lazy, efficient bun, letting a few tendrils slip out of the formation and hang at the back of her neck. She reached through the open window and grabbed her purse and overnight bag, sliding her shirt over her the waist of her jeans after it rode up. She caught Jackson stealing a glance and flashed him a look of warning. He quickly pushed his sunglasses back up on the bridge of his nose again.

He waited patiently a few steps ahead, watching as she readjusted the weight load on her shoulder. "You've got the ID's, right?" Jackson asked. He had a tendency to make extra fake ID's for them whenever they stopped for extended periods of time, trying hard to conceal their real identity. The story he planned on using tonight was one he had used before --- cousins on their way to a relative's wedding, stopping and spending the night in the motel du joir.

"I thought you had them?" she asked, looking confused. Jackson's face paled.

"Fuck, Leese, don't _even_ tell me you lost them! Don't _tell me_ you _lost them_!" If she had lost their fake ID's, they were royally screwed.

"I didn't _los_e them," she spat angrily, feeling around in her purse for the laminated driver's licenses, "I just, I-" Not feeling anything in her purse, she panicked, throwing her purse and overnight bag onto the hot pavement, reaching into her pockets.

"You sure? When was the last time you had them, Leese? Where were they?" Jackson picked up her purse, rifling through the contents carelessly, searching every crevice of the bag.

"It, it was just the other day, when we were at that motel in Oregon, I remember! I had them then, and now ... I know I ..." she sputtered helplessly, reaching into her back pockets, searching frantically. Jackson narrowed his eyes at her.

"You're sure-"

"_Yes,_ I'm _fucking_ sure!" Lisa screamed, bordering on hysteria. Jackson glared at her, and she sent a vicious scowl his way before hauling her overnight bag off of the ground, quickly searching through the side pockets, jabbing her thumb on an uncapped pen. She hissed angrily, starting to yank her hand back out, when she felt something slick and plastic shoved behind her hairbrush. She immediately froze, glancing at Jackson with a surprised look on her face.

Jackson furrowed his brows at her, feeling like an idiot standing in the parking lot and holding her purse. He watched as she slowly pulled her right hand out of her bag, two Kentucky driver's licenses held between her thumb and forefinger. He let out a loud breath of relief. _"Jesus Christ, Lisa!"_ he moaned, dropping her purse and throwing his hands up into the air. Lisa mumbled something under her breath as she shoved her own ID into her back pocket. "Care to repeat that?" he hissed as he yanked his ID from her hand, dipping his face to look her straight in the eyes. Lisa glared back, unnerved.

"_I said_, quit being such a _fucking drama queen_ about everything! I _told you_ I didn't _lose them_!" She bent and picked up the purse, gathering the spilled contents, and hoisted her overnight bag back over her shoulder. Jackson turned angrily on his heel, leaving her behind.

"Can't fuckin' trust you with anything." Lisa scowled at his back as she followed.

-  
-

**_Broken On The Inside_**

Lisa was pulling a new set of clothes out for the evening, searching through the suitcase Jackson had lugged in and thrown angrily on the bed. The two had glared daggers at each other before he returned back to the parking lot, gathering the last of their things and locking the car. Lisa grabbed the jeans, panties, bra, and tank top that she'd be wearing out to dinner that night, and made her way into the bathroom as she heard the door opening again.

Jackson moved into the room, dragging his suitcase and a duffel bag behind him as the door clicked shut. He gave her a heated glance as he set his suitcase next to hers, dumping the duffel bag on the floor. "I can't believe you lost them ..." he growled. Lisa flung the flap of her suitcase open again, reaching for the bottle of conditioner she'd stored in the side pocket.

"You want to keep blaming me for something I _didn_'t do for the rest of the night, or do you want to shut the hell up about it?" she retorted. Jackson started toward her, and suddenly stopped, clenching his hands into white-knuckled fists at his sides.

"I'm-" he paused, closing his eyes and breathing heavily. Unintimidated, Lisa grabbed the conditioner and moved back into the bathroom, setting it on the counter before shutting the door lightly behind her. "I'm on my last nerve with you, Leese!" he growled. Lisa sighed and pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it on the floor as she began to unbutton her jeans.

"When aren't you?" she replied flippantly, lowering the zipper and coaxing the denim down over her hips. "If you're going to do something, do it, otherwise, _fuck off_!" She had just finished stepping out of her jeans before the door flung open and Jackson crashed inside, his fingers wrapping around her throat and slamming her against the wall.

She gagged as the red-face Jackson seethed in front of her, his hand crushing against her windpipe. She tried clawing at his hand in an attempt to get him off her, but he simply grabbed her arm with his free hand, pinning it down at her side while he pressed his body against hers.

"I've had, in the last three days, about four hours of sleep, over thirty hours of driving, and enough of your fucking smart-ass comments to last me the rest of my _life_!" he growled in a voice so low it was nearly a whisper. He watched her face turning from pink to red as her mouth continued opening in a futile attempt to reclaim oxygen. "Do you know how _easy_ it would be for me right now, Lisa? To just keep squeezing your neck? To watch you suffocate to death?" To emphasize his point, he tightened his grip, watching her eyes squeeze tightly in pain and terror, forcing tears out of the corners and down the sides of her face. "I could get rid of the monkey on my back in the time it takes for you to strangle to death."

The hand Lisa had clamped around his wrist suddenly flew up and pushed against his chest, hard. The force was enough to knock Jackson back a step, and loosen his grip. Lisa gagged, nearly sounding as if she'd puke, before sucking in a painful gulp of air. Jackson slammed himself back against her, his blinding rage beginning to clear, but unwilling to stop the fight just yet. Lisa coughed and sputtered, drawing in heaving chestfuls of air. It was then that Jackson realized she was dressed in only her bra and bikini underwear. He gave a quick glance at her nearly naked form, watching her chest rise and fall in a rapid pace, the muscles of her abdomen clenching and releasing as she struggled for air. Lisa regarded him with a terrified expression, wondering if he was finally going to kill her ... or worse. His eyes flicked back up to hers.

"It'd be easy for me to do a lot of things to you, Leese ..." he said softly, grabbing her attention. She narrowed her eyes at him and set her jaw, trying to look defiant.

"If you killed me, you'd be right back at square one," she panted. Jackson glared at her, tightening his grip slightly.

"And where's that, exactly?"

"Stuck back in the fucking pathetic excuse of a life you had before you met me," she growled. "And you wouldn't have someone to go home to." Jackson let go of her abruptly, suddenly struck by what she had said. She collapsed against the wall, heaving in chestfuls of air.

"You think that's what you are to me? Huh?" Jackson asked, causing her to look up. "You think I need someone to listen to my stories, or to go to a movie with, or run their fingers through my hair, or whatever other fanciful romantic shit that they always show in chick flicks?" He sounded disgusted, but Lisa simply watched him carefully. "Because if you do, then you're sadly mistaken!"

Lisa pulled herself up to her full height, raising her eyes up to meet his intense gaze. "Whether you want to admit it or not, Jackson, you _like_ having me as your Little Girl Friday, and you'd go fucking _insane_ if I wasn't around, because _I'm. All. You've. Got!_" Something flashed across his eyes, realization, maybe, but it was gone before she could get a second glance at it. She watched him take a few deep breaths, calming the anger that still churned within him. At length, he ran his hand through his hair and backed up, still glaring at her, until his gaze moved just below her right shoulder. He was openly staring at her scar, and they both knew it. For her part, she did nothing to stop him.

"I think you came along with me, not because you're scared, but because inside, you're as broken as you'd like to believe I am." He moved his eyes back to her face and gave her a sneer. "And misery loves company." She sucked in a sharp breath at his words, feeling hot tears stinging her eyes again as he left the bathroom, slamming the door angrily behind him.

-  
-

**_Trigger-Happy Jack Has The Tables Turned_**

Twenty minutes later, showered and calmed, Lisa emerged from the bathroom. She knew Jackson was watching her, waiting for the fight to start again, but she kept her eyes averted and remained silent. When he realized that she wasn't going to cause a scene again, Jackson grew impatient and grabbed a change of clothes from his suitcase, moving toward the bathroom.

"You're going to broil to death in those jeans, Leese. Change into something different," he remarked coldly, going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. Sighing, Lisa unzipped her suitcase again, pulling out a black knee-length skirt, made of a silky, flowing material. Figuring she wouldn't 'broil to death' in it, she took her jeans off, slid the skirt up over her hips, and readjusted her shirt. Jackson took much shorter showers than she did, apparently, because by the time she had changed, found a pair of flip-flops, and pulled her hair back, Jackson was emerging from the bathroom, hair still dripping lightly. "Get your stuff, we're going to go get something to eat."

They drove in silence to the Blimpie's down the road, where they each ordered a sub, Jackson ordering a veggie sub with light mustard, and Lisa opting for turkey, ham, and cheese on wheat. The silence continued as they ate, neither of them daring to even look at the other. After finishing their meal and grabbing their drinks, they returned to the car, where Jackson put the convertible top down, allowing more of the evening air in. Lisa said nothing as she slid into her seat, settling her drink between her knees and looking at the last glowing rays of the setting sun. Jackson got in and started the car, but when he pulled out of the parking lot, Lisa noticed that they were heading in the opposite direction of the motel.

"Where are we going?" she asked, looking in the side-view mirror as if the Super8 Motel would magically appear. Jackson glanced up in the rear-view mirror before tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

"I don't know," he finally answered. Lisa rolled her eyes.

"Why aren't we going to the _motel_, then?" she asked, clarifying her original question. Jackson's eyes didn't leave the road.

"Because I can't be stuck in there with you at the moment, or I'll go _fucking insane_, to use some words of yours." Lisa sighed and sat back, watching the scenery pass by slowly. Jackson really didn't seem to have a destination in mind, nor did he seem in a hurry to get there.

"I'm not broken," Lisa muttered finally. Jackson snorted.

"The fuck you aren't." He glanced over at her, opening his mouth to say something, but thought better of it, and pulled the car over first, putting it into park and turning off the engine. They sat in relative quiet for a few moments before Jackson decided to speak again. "If you aren't broken, why hasn't there been another guy in your life since you got that scar?" he asked boldly.

Lisa looked up, shocked, her mouth opening and closing a few times, but no words coming out. "I-I just ... I-" she sputtered, and suddenly frowned. "How is that a fair question to ask? You don't _know_ me! You don't know what I've been through!" Jackson gave her an incredulous stare before throwing his hands off the steering wheel and into his hair, laughing loudly, and Lisa noticed it had a slightly maniacal tone to it.

"_I don't know you!?_ I know you better than you know your own fucking _self_, for shit's sake!" he finally shouted. "You're a workaholic, you don't have any friends outside of meager acquaintances at work, you hardly ever go out, and you're the perfect example of Suzy Homebody. Then, some guy finds you in a parking lot, fucks you, leaves, and now you think you're damaged goods, and you can't trust any men who aren't named 'daddy'! I think that pretty much sums up your life at this point!" Lisa stared at him angrily, and her voice shook when she spoke.

"_Don't ... you ... **dare**_ mock my agony that I had to go through! You don't know _shit_ about what happened to me!" Jackson turned in his seat, leaning toward her so that she shrank against the door.

"Don't I, Lisa?" His eyes had turned into those of the Cheshire Cat's, sparkling wickedly at her, taunting her. "Why don't you tell me about it, inform me? Tell me about all the pain and suffering that you've gone through, that couldn't possibly compare to what I've seen and done and had happen to me."

"Stop it," Lisa warned, feeling him advance on her. She kept her eyes on him warily.

"No, Leese, I insist. Tell me, was he a big guy, bigger than me? Six foot, maybe? Or was he some runt that got lucky and scared you enough to overpower you? Hmm?"

"I said stop, Jackson!" Lisa felt herself beginning to shake, but she wasn't sure if it was from anger, fear, or shame. Jackson paid her no heed, his hand slipping into the console between their seats to grab the knife he kept stashed there. Lisa's eyes flicked nervously toward the glove compartment, where he kept the gun. "What are you doing, Jackson?"

"Did his knife look anything like this Lisa?" He held up the black blade for her to examine, and even in the waning light, she could make out the 12-inch blade. "Did he hold something like this to your throat? Or was it one of those fucking pathetic little Swiss Army knives that everyone carries around?" Lisa felt the burn of the knife slicing across her skin when her attacker slipped, as clear as if it had just been pulled across her sensitive flesh again. She felt bile rising at the back of her throat.

"I didn't get to _see_ the knife, I just _felt_ it!" she hissed, wishing he'd stop, but sensing he wasn't quite finished. She was right.

"Ah, inconsiderate I see. Most rapists are, by trade, I suppose." He flipped the knife around in his hand easily. "It's just good manners to let people know what you're threatening them with. What else didn't he do for you, hmm? The inconsiderate bastard, that is. Tell me, did he make you take all your clothes off, Leese? Or did he allow you a bit of decency?"

"Stop, Jackson!" He was going _way too far_ with this.

"And when he fucked you, did he go fast or slow?" He watched her body shaking with rage and fear, but he couldn't stop. He finally had Little Miss High And Mighty knocked down a few pegs, and he wasn't _about_ to let her think that she could smart off to him without suffering consequences again. He'd make her relive her nightmare in front of him, and she'd think twice about making another smart-ass comment to him.

"Quit it, Jackson!" She was backed all the way against the door now, her back digging into handle, and Jackson had one hand on her seat, leaning deep into her personal territory.

"Tell me, Lisa, when he was fucking you, did you get off?" Lisa's hand connected with a sharp crack against his cheek, causing stars to explode behind his eyes. His vision dimmed for a moment, stunned, and he heard a scrambling noise, could feel her moving, and saw her half-falling out the door. "Lisa, you bitch!" he growled, grabbing her leg. She tripped, and something dropped from her hand.

Jackson threw himself out of her door, watched her try to scramble to her feet, but he was faster than she was. He grabbed her shoulder, whipping her onto her back in the rocky, dusty mess. He felt her foot connect with his hip.

"Get off of me!" she shrieked, trying to dislodge him. Now Jackson was pissed.

"Why do you always have to push my buttons, huh, Lisa? Do you enjoy seeing me angry? Is that what it is?" He pinned her easily to the ground. "What does it take, to keep you from getting on my last nerve _every fucking day_? Hmm? What could I do to make you never even _think_ about fucking crossing me?" She glared at him, and he suddenly realized ...

"That's what it is, isn't, Lisa? I know _exactly_ what it is!" He held the knife against her throat and watched the horror flood across her face. Dark pride surged through him as he knew he had her right where he wanted her. "Your worst nightmare, isn't it?" His free hand slid along her thigh, shoving her skirt up to her hips, exposing her smooth legs, along with her choice of undergarments. She whimpered, trying to placate her fears. Jackson was high on the adrenaline rush it was giving him, knowing that he had the control of the situation. In his adrenaline-fed boldness, he unbuttoned his jeans, pulling down the zipper while he forced her thighs apart with his knees.

"Oh, God!" she wailed, trying to move away as the tears stained her cheeks. He pressed the knife closer to her throat, watching as a dark line dotted her flesh. "God, Jackson, _please!_ Please don't!" His hands ran up the smooth length of her thigh, feeling the warm silkiness of her skin. He was so turned on right now, it'd be a damn struggle to keep himself becoming the next man in her nightmares.

"All you gotta do is behave, Lisa. But you can't seem to do that, can you? Always fucking talking back, pissing me off ... it never ends with you, no matter how much I threaten." He let his thumb hook under the elastic of her panties, tugging them down slightly to reveal the bump of her hipbone. "Maybe I need to raise the stakes for you-"

The deafening blast and sudden flash of light stunned him, but even more surprising was the source. The pair stared at each other for sickeningly long moment, before Jackson realized Lisa had the gun he had stashed in the glove compartment, the one he had taught her to use at the shooting range, shaking in her hands, and she had just fired it at him. He felt something wet on his ear, and reached to touch it. Pulling his hand back, he saw a slight smear of blood. She had nicked him! She missed.

"Leese ..." It was hard to see her face in the twilight, but he could see she was still trembling violently, the gun rattling in her hands. He moved to take it from her, but she pressed it to his temple instead.

"_Get. Off. Of me. **Now**._" She growled the words through clenched teeth, cocking the gun a second time. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"You really don't want to do that, Leese. If you fire that gun at me again, I'll most likely jump, and my knife's over an artery right now. I can imagine how you'd hate for it to slip."

"I said, get off."

"Put the gun down first."

"_Fuck you!_" she spat. Jackson shoved her arm to the side, moving the gun away, and heard the second gunshot go off. Lisa screamed and dropped the weapon, her hands flying to her mouth. Jackson sat stock still for a frightening moment.

Lisa heard the knife clatter to the rocky dirt, and she expected Jackson's lifeless body to topple onto her, thinking for a horrified second that she had shot him. Instead, he moved off of her, falling back with a thud against the car. She watched as he pulled his knees up, rested his arms on them, and hung his head.

"J-Jackson? ..." He shook his head.

"I can't believe-" he paused, and she could hear him suck in a breath. "I can't believe I just-" His head snapped up suddenly, his pained eyes glancing at her disheveled appearance. "God, Lisa, are you okay?" He crawled to where she was, and Lisa, too shocked to do anything but watch, didn't move. He grabbed the hem of her skirt, pulling it modestly back down to cover her exposed thighs, and brushed off what dirt he could. "Look up," he instructed. Dumbly, Lisa tilted her head back, feeling his fingers slide across the burning line on her neck, hearing his hiss of regret. He licked his thumb, trying to wipe away the still-oozing blood, but it was hard to see anything in the pale moonlight.

"Is it bad?" she asked, referring to her neck. He could see dark spots that he couldn't be sure were shadows or bruises, and shook his head.

"I can't believe I did that, Lisa. I wasn't going to ... you know ... but I-" he hung his head in embarrassment. "I let it play out way too far, even for my tastes." He was shaking lightly, and Lisa could tell that what had transpired rattled him. "I wanted to scare you, so you wouldn't- ... I didn't mean for it happen like that, Lisa."

She stood on wobbling legs and moved past him, grabbing the gun, opening her car door and sliding inside. She picked up her cup, which had toppled and spilled ice on the floorboard during her quick escape, and flung it carelessly to the rocky dirt. Jackson realized that he wasn't going to be able to do any more apologizing at the moment, picked up the knife, and stood, brushing off his clothes. He realized with sickening disgust that his pants were still undone, and hurriedly zipped them back up. Wordlessly, he made his way back to the driver's side, got in, started the Pontiac, and drove them both back to the motel in the most painful silence he had ever experienced.

-  
-

They walked in through the side entrance, by the staircase. Entering through the front lobby would've drawn unwanted attention to their disheveled appearance, mostly Lisa's. Much to Jackson's humiliation, her neck was sporting dark bruises that were exactly the size of his fingers, along with a bloody red slash across the front. Her hair was mussed, she had scratches and cuts on her legs from the gravel, and her outfit was more or less ruined.

He slid the key into the door, unlocking it, and held it open for her. She barely made a sound as she entered, moving straight to her suitcase. "You might want to get showered up," he mumbled, hating himself as he said it. _Of course she needs a shower, you sick fuck! And she'll probably need a whole fucking library of Dr. Phil books after what you pulled!_

Lisa continued her silence, pulling a pair of boxer shorts and a new tank top from her bag and slamming it closed, before moving through the bathroom door and slamming _it_ closed, as well. Jackson sighed and threw his keys on his suitcase, falling down on the bed. He hadn't meant to hurt her like that, especially the cut across her neck. He had only intended to scare her, make her think he was capable of becoming ... _him_, the anonymous man in her past from the parking lot, the one her took her life from her. _Just like I've done to her now._

His conscience was eating away at him. He hadn't felt guilt or remorse in a long time, he thought those feelings had died when he had agreed to becoming employed in his previous line of work. Now, they burned through him, smoldering through his veins and causing agony with each pulse of his heart. _Why did I have to be so violent with her? _She drove him insane at times, but why couldn't he be like normal people and just yell at her, instead?

He stood, grabbed his keys, and left the room.

-  
-

Lisa turned off the water, watching as the last vestiges of dirt, grime, and blood trickled down the drain. She looked down at her bare, wet body, and let herself examine the wounds for the first time. Her hands had chunks of skin missing from when Jackson had grabbed her leg as she scrambled out of the car, causing her to fall face-first into the desert dirt. Rocks and chunks of clay had caused the abrasions, pulling away the tender skin of her palms. Her arms and legs weren't much better, especially her knees. She could feel the sting of raw skin on her back as well, but there was one mark she was particularly concerned about.

She wiped the fog off of the mirror and stared at her reflection, tilting her head up slightly. A neat white line played horizontally across her neck, outlined in red. It had stopped bleeding, but it still stung. Closer examination revealed that it wasn't deep, it was just ... a warning. As were the dark bruises on the sides of her neck. Disgusted with herself, she turned away and got dressed.

-  
-

Jackson looked up when as the bathroom door opened. Lisa stopped, the look in her eyes reminding him of a scared wild animal.

"Sit down, Leese." He motioned to the bed, and Lisa regarded him warily. "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm just going to-" He held up a pharmacy bag, gesturing to the contents contained inside. Lisa peered into the bag, seeing various boxes and bottles. She sat down on the bed carefully, still skittish. Jackson dumped the bag upside down, revealing a stash of cotton swabs, antiseptic, Neosporin, cooling creme, pain reliever, and various sizes and shapes of adhesive bandages.

"Now you decide you wanna play nice?" she asked quietly. Jackson paused, looking up at her, and for a moment, she thought he was going to attack her again.

"I'm trying to care for some of what I did earlier. The physical part, anyway." He gave her a helpless glance. "The mental part's going to take a while, I know. So ... I'll work on this for right now, and we'll talk after I finish up and get out of the shower."

"Take a shower, first," Lisa responded, averting her gaze. "Everything will still be here when you get out." Jackson nodded, not wanting to continue the fight from earlier. He stood, grabbed boxer shorts and a t-shirt from his suitcase, and made his way to the bathroom.

-  
-

**_Giving You Your 'Never Again'_**

He half-expected her to have packed up and left when he got out of the shower. But, as he opened the door, freshly-showered, with his previous set of clothes under his arm, he saw her still sitting in the same spot on the bed, her battered legs pulled up to her chest. He dumped his clothes into the laundry bag, noticing Lisa's ruined outfit wasn't in it, and moved back to the bed. He sat down on his side of the bed, reaching for the cotton balls and antiseptic.

"You said earlier ... you said you weren't going to ... to rape me," Jackson dipped the cotton ball in the antiseptic, squeezing out the excess as she spoke. "What were you going to do?" She hissed as he dabbed lightly at a cut on her ankle, the antiseptic burning the raw skin.

"Something that, in hindsight, was inappropriate nonetheless." He moved up her exposed leg, applying the antiseptic to each cut and scratch he found. "I was going to scare you into behaving, but ..." he reached for a new cotton ball, loading it down with antiseptic, as well. "I ended up scaring myself." He moved to her other leg, noticing the long gash that ran nearly the entire length of her shin. "Jesus," he breathed mournfully. He had scared her, and worse, he had hurt her. Two things he didn't think he ever wanted to do again in his life.

Lisa noticed the red mark on his ear, the tell-tale sign of raw skin. Had she actually shot him? "I ... you've got a ..." she pointed to his ear, grabbing her own empathetically. "I didn't mean-" She reached up, moving her hand towards his ear, but Jackson brushed her hand away and gave her a dark look.

"I told you not to miss, Lisa," he murmured. "I'm considering that a 'miss' ... don't miss again."

Lisa sat patiently while he attended to her physical wounds, moving slowly up her body, until he finally got to her neck. She watched as pain and regret swam in his eyes, and she nearly jumped when she felt his hand on her neck for the second time that evening.

"Shh, it's okay ... I'm not going to hurt you this time." His words were so soft, so sincere, so full of remorse, that Lisa had no choice but to believe him, and as she remembered the events that had led up to this, she began to cry. "Lisa?" Her tears turned into soft sobs. Jackson felt himself breaking inside. Without thinking, he pulled her to him, cradling her against his chest, his fingers running through her still-damp locks as she clutched his shirt.

"You sc- ... scared the ... _hell_ outta me!" she whimpered, hiccuping slightly. Jackson closed his eyes, feeling his veins burning with self-hatred again. He rested his cheek against the side of her head, feeling the dampness of her hair cooling his heated face. "I thought you were going to kill me, or ... or ..." She cut herself off, erupting into new tears and sobs that wracked her small frame.

"No, Leese. Never." He rubbed her back gently, rocking both of them back and forth as he attempted to calm her. "I promise. Never." He held her like that for the next half-hour, until her tears had subsided, her shaking had stopped, and she had finally dozed off into an exhausted sleep. He lowered her carefully back down, gently coaxing her out of her curled-up position, and tugged the covers from underneath her. Standing, he quietly grabbed the assorted first aid supplies from the bed, opting to set them on the dresser instead of placing them back into the noisy plastic bag.

Moving back to the bed, he saw that Lisa had again pulled herself up into a ball, and had turned to her side, facing his half of the bed. He turned off the light, slid under the covers, and threw the blankets over Lisa, as well. Jackson watched as she breathed evenly, her exhaustion overcoming her usual fidgety sleeping habits that caused them to wake up in a compromising position on more than one occasion. He reached out and began tucking her stray tresses behind her ear, noting the angry line he had sliced across her throat. His thumb grazed across the crevice the knife had created when it carved through a few layers of skin. With any luck, and some Neosporin, he wouldn't become the second man to vitiate her fair skin with a scar.

He caught sight of a nasty-looking bruise around her wrist, most likely from when he had her pinned against the wall earlier. He lowered his hand to hers, his fingers wrapping around her small hand in a gentle embrace, his thumb tracing back and forth across her knuckles. "Never again, Leese. I promise."

Lisa sighed in her sleep, her fingers clenching momentarily at his. Satisfied that she was in a deep slumber, Jackson closed his eyes and let sleep visit him, as well.


	3. Chapter 3

Lisa jerked awake as thunder rumbled through the hotel room. She opened her eyes, blearily seeing faint strains of light coming through the window. She blinked a few times, clearing the sleep from her eyes, and saw through the open drapes that the early morning was a dark grey-blue, filled with heavy rain-laden clouds and faint flashes of lightning. The heat that had brewed the fight between her and Jackson last night had also produced a menacing storm, which was slowly approaching.

Moaning tiredly, she laid her head back down on the pillow and started to pull the blanket back over her shoulders. She stopped when she felt the slight tug of resistance. Looking down, she saw that her fingers were interlaced with Jackson's, who was -- thankfully -- still asleep. Lisa froze. Did she grab his hand in the middle of the night? Last thing she remembered was-

Heat flooded her face. She had been crying pathetically into Jackson's shirt last night, after their blowout. As if that weren't embarrassing enough, she had a feeling that she fell asleep in his arms. She looked at his relaxed features, concentrating her attention on his slightly parted lips and the stray hairs that hung over his eyes. At least he had the decency to put her to bed, instead of waking her up and _letting her know_ that she had fallen asleep against him. Further inspection of their sleeping arrangement mortified Lisa even further.

She had one leg wrapped over his hip, pulling their lower bodies closer than they naturally should have been.

There was no way she was going to get out of this, while saving face, without Divine Intervention from God Himself.

As if God wanted to make that point absolutely clear, she could feel Jackson beginning to wake. She closed her eyes and relaxed her body as quickly as she could, doing her best to appear as if she were still sleeping. She heard Jackson take a slow, deep breath, and knew that he was opening his eyes, for the first time that morning, to the scene she had discovered first. Whatever past life's sins she was paying for, she hoped she had a hell of a good time committing them, because this would be a lot of torture for something petty.

-  
-

Jackson surveyed the sight before him. Lisa ... poor, Lisa. The bruises on her neck had turned darker, looking worse than they did last night, as did the one on her wrist. He carefully unwrapped his fingers from hers, embarrassed that he had maintained the light grasp throughout the night. He reached out, pushing her hair gently away from her neck, and felt her flinch. He frowned, knowing he probably had grazed one of her bruises. He moved her auburn tresses, seeing the purple-blue marks extending around the slender column of her throat to the side of her neck. It would be hard, nearly impossible, to effectively hide her bruises and cuts under clothing in this heat. She would have to lay low for a while.

He let his arm fall back between their bodies, realizing there wasn't much space between the two of them. Looking down, he saw why. Lisa's impossibly long leg was draped over his hip, holding him close against her. _Don't even think about it, God, don't think about-_ It was too late, he could already feel the arousal seeping into his blood stream, coursing through his body, pooling in the pit of his stomach and in his loins. Determined not to embarrass himself further by waking Lisa up with an insistent erection pressed against her, he gripped the back of her bare knee lightly. _God, her legs were smooth ... where they weren't battered._ He thought of the insane adrenaline rush he had last night, when he was on top of her, pushing her legs apart, his pants undone ... he thought of the arousal he had felt when he realized how it would be so easy for him to just _fuck her_ right then and there, to _finally_ release his aggression and violence through sex.

The guilt from the previous night mixed with new self-loathing as he realized how sick he was, for wanting to force her into submission, to take what he wanted and to leave her with whatever was left, so long as he got off. With intense determination, he gently lifted her knee, unwrapping her leg from his torso, and slid from the covers. He needed a cold shower, _badly_.

-  
-

Lisa waited until she heard the bathroom door close before letting out a shaky sigh. It had taken all of her self-control to keep herself from shaking when Jackson had touched her. She had jumped slightly when his hand was in her hair, exposing the skin of her neck. She thought he was going to dig his fingers into her flesh again, but he had simply inspected the marks he had left, before resting his arm between them again. Then, he found out. He found out she had her leg wrapped around him. She had wanted to die when she felt his hand on the back of her knee, confirmation of his knowledge of her embarrassing tendencies to wrap herself around whatever happened to be close while she slept. She had to dig deep inside of herself to find that extra ounce of courage to keep from screaming when his hand connected with her skin. But, to her surprise, instead of the fierce grip she had expected, pulling her body flush against his, so that he could finish what he had started the night before, there was ... nothing. Jackson simply lifted her leg gently, removing it from his hip, and slid out of bed to take a shower.

She shivered in the air conditioning and crawled out of bed to go to the unit at the window. She shut it off and slid the window pane to the side, letting in the muggy air, heavy with the scent of the impending downpour. Goosebumps erupted along her arms and legs, and she quickly reached for the zip-up hoodie laying across the chair next to the window. She slid it on, then leaned through the window, her elbows resting on the ledge as she surveyed the thunderheads rolling in.

She loved these type of mornings, the kinds she used to enjoy in the summertime as a kid in Texas. She would wake up at her grandmother's house, and instead of hearing Henrietta's humming while she made breakfast, and Duke's random comments on sales he found in the newspaper ads, she would hear the pattering of rain, the rumble of thunder, and the chirping of birds that dared to venture out into the storm. Henrietta and Duke would always sit out on the front porch watching the storms, and Lisa hoped to continue that tradition someday, when she had grandchildren of her own ... if Jackson didn't kill her first.

"If you were cold, you should've said something, I'd have turned off the air conditioning." Lisa jumped as Jackson exited the bathroom, dressed in a pair of loose-fitting faded denims, and nothing else. She averted her eyes and looked down at the hoodie.

"Sorry, I ... I didn't realize this was yours, I just pulled it on." She began to pull it from her shoulders, but he shook his head, his wet hair sticking to his forehead.

"Don't. If you're cold, keep it on." He moved next to her, his arm nearly brushing hers as he leaned through the window as well, his face scrunching lightly as he inhaled. "Looks like we're going to be hitting some rain during our driving. Smells like rain, too. Really ... _earthy_-smelling. Like hot, wet dirt." Lisa nodded as she breathed in the scent of the impending storm, which mixed with the aroma of a freshly-showered Jackson.

"I used to lay in bed in the mornings during the summer, when I would visit my grandma, in Texas ... just ... listening to the storms," she began, watching as a stray car passed along the main road. "For all the turbulence storms bring, they always seem to have a way of bringing a sense of peace afterwards."

Jackson turned his head to face her, and she could see pale freckles dotting his face and shoulders, near-ghosts on his skin. It made him seem incredibly human, almost boyish. "Which ... brings me to something I've been meaning to say ... what with storms and peace and all that ..." He opened his mouth again, then paused, as if he were struggling for words. He reached up and raked his hand through his damp hair, mussing the dark locks gently. "Last night, I-" Lisa sensed the apology he was getting ready to make.

"Jackson, you don't have to-"

"No, I do, Lisa!" he interrupted fiercely, cutting off her protests. He averted his eyes and licked his lips, searching for the correct way to phrase his next few sentences. "Last night, I wanted to scare you into behaving, and I took it farther than I intended. A lot farther. I just wanted you to think that I'd be able to do whatever it takes to get you to do what I need you to do, and the truth is, I'm not. I'm not able to." He looked back at her, his blue-grey eyes staring intently into hers. "There're some things that I can't ... that I _won't_ do. Things that I _refuse_ to do. And I came _really fucking close_ to doing them."

"Yeah," Lisa affirmed sadly. "You did ... you came _too_ close. You scared me to death."

Jackson lowered his gaze, opting instead to watch the fire ants, crawling along the outside wall. "I know. And I'm sorry, Leese. I don't think there's any way for me to apologize enough for what I did last night. I was so disgusted with myself, I- ..." He lifted his head, staring back out at the brewing clouds, which had suddenly turned darker. "After you got back in the car, and I stood up, and I- ... I looked down, and saw that my pants were undone, and I- ... God, Lisa, I wanted to puke." She watched as his eyes slowly made their way back to hers. "I'd never been so disgusted with myself in my entire life. And for whatever it's worth ... I'm sorry."

Lisa nodded, not sure if she should trust her voice to speak. "I understand," she murmured, wiping at her eyes as casually as she could, but knowing he would see it anyway. She wasn't ready to cry in front of him - _again_ - just yet. "I'm sorry, too. For always making things difficult for you. You're trying to help me, for whatever reason, and I'm constantly throwing a wrench into things." She gave a meager laugh. "It seems like I'm good for something -- screwing up Jackson Rippner's plans, day in and day out." He smiled at that, a real smile.

"Like I said last night, though, Leese ... don't miss again. Because it sure as hell _won't be me_ doing that to you, if it ever happens again. I swear. And you know how I am with my promises."

She nodded, watching as the first few drops of rain began to fall. "You keep them." The few drops became more numerous, until it was a steady pattering against the still-hot asphalt of the parking lot. "And for what it's worth, coming from me, I'm sorry I tried shooting you ... _again_."

Jackson gave a full laugh that time, his eyes crinkling lightly in the corners as his mouth parted in a wide grin. "Guess I should be thankful you missed."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Okay, here's the final chapter of this story! I'm issuing another challenge on this one, to any writers interested in partaking! The challenge is simply to write another story within this whole series that we've got going here, concerning any events mentioned or implied in the stories, or any events post-"My Happy Ending" that you believe could occur. Please message either myself, NicolinaN, or Bunnies-Made-Me-Do-It if you'd like to accept the challenge and need clarification on continuity or backstory, etc. (Like how I totally volunteered you two, Bunnies and Nic? I'm amazing, I know.) The stories in the series thus far, are as follows:

_My Happy Ending_ by _Kaikamahine Mai Hawai'i_  
_A Beginning In a Way_ by _NicolinaN  
Middle of Nowhere_ by _Bunnies-Made-Me-Do-It  
Giving You Your 'Never Again'_ by _Kaikamahine Mai Hawai'i_

There are also rumors of a few others accepting challenges by Nic and Bunnies, but I'm in the dark as to what they're writing, for the most part. Please see them for any details they may have. (That would be the second volunteering of you two, by the way. I'm on a roll.) I'm also considering writing a third, and maybe a fourth story for this series, and will lay the smackdown on anyone who thinks they're going to take the events I have in mind ... in the nicest way, of course. ;) If you decide to accept the challenge, and the events you want to write for are taken, I will let you know.

_**

* * *

****Post-Shower Blues**_

Jackson laid on his back in the sleeping bag, staring at the roof of the abandoned barn. _Do you ever feel as if your life is incomplete?_ Lisa's words still tumbled through his head, gnawing at him. Hell, he hadn't thought about what he wanted out of life in a long time. There simply wasn't a point. He had a job to do, and he had to think about what he needed to accomplish to successfully complete it. Everything was black and white, get paid or don't get paid. Live to see tomorrow or end up dead for fucking up.

He cast a quick glance over at his sleeping companion, watching her scratch lightly at her neck before settling down again. He had made sure to move his sleeping bag a bit further away from her than he normally would've liked. That morning, he had woken up to a pleasant surprise ... Lisa had thrown her leg over his hip in her sleep, and pulled their bodies together. It had taken all of his effort to control himself, and in the end, he managed to sneak out of the bed with an erection that was solved by quick, cold shower, and Lisa had been none the wiser. However, that being said, he didn't want to chance it a second time. It wouldn't be easy to explain to Lisa why he was hard for her, when he had a knife to her throat the night before.

He looked over at her again, thinking of the feeling of her leg wrapped arou- _Stop! Stop it, Jack, you're trying _not_ to think of things like that, things that'll end in the same physical reaction you had to her this morning!_ He sighed, turning his head back to face up at the roof again. He could see pinpricks of starlight coming through, and was glad that the storms from earlier hadn't extended all the way down to Arizona. Otherwise, they'd be more than a little wet right now. _Like how Lisa's shirt was when we had to run out to the car after checking out, because it was fuckin' pouring out ... God, that shirt clung to-_

Jackson angrily kicked himself out of his sleeping bag, stood, and went to the door of the barn. He wasn't going to get any sleep if he kept thinking about Lisa.

What did he want from life, anyway? Hell, he already had a house. A few of them. That's all you really needed, right? Someplace to live? Everything else would just fall into place, right?

"Why aren't you sleeping?" Jackson turned, seeing Lisa leaning on her elbows in her sleeping bag. In the dark, her eyes glittered eerily.

"I didn't mean to wake you up, I-" He saw her unzip her own sleeping bag and begin walking over to him. "I just, I couldn't sleep."

Lisa padded softly across the wooden floor, stopping next to him as she gazed at the scenery. "Let me guess ... you were thinking?" Jackson nodded. "About what? If you don't mind me asking, that is." She looked at him questioningly, and he shrugged.

"Just ... about what you asked me earlier ... if I 'ever feel as if my life is incomplete'." He watched an owl glide soundlessly through the air, landing on a scraggly bush, something small and dead in its beak. "I realized that I've never thought about what I wanted to do with my life. Everything's always been about my job, and what I need to do to survive and move on to the next assignment. Past a housing situation, I'm not sure what to expect from life."

"What do you mean?" Lisa moved into a sitting position on the floor, and Jackson copied her.

"Well ... I've got a few places to live, but once that's out of the way, then what? What do I do after that?"

Lisa smiled at him in a teasing manner. "Are you asking _me_ for advice?" Jackson laughed as he realized how absurd he must sound.

"It was rhetorical, but ... since you're the Dr. Philophile, any pointers you might have would fall upon open ears." Lisa rolled her eyes.

"Um, okay, uh ... a job? What are you going to do for money? Where will you work? What are you good at?" Jackson gave her a pointed glare.

"I think we're both aware of what I'm 'good at', Leese. Arranging people's deaths." She smiled at him.

"There you go, then! A funeral home worker!" He laughed outright at that. "Seriously though, what do you think you'd want to do?" Jackson shrugged. He definitely knew what he didn't want to do, anymore.

"Whatever it is, I want it to be legit. Fuck, I want to be able to go to H&R Block to do my taxes without raising suspicion about my employment. But other than a job, what else?" Lisa looked surprised, as if she wasn't seriously expecting him to be trying to plan his life out.

"Oh! Um ... I guess, the next step would be, uh ..." she was blushing slightly, he could tell.

"Say it, Leese, whatever it is. I'm grasping at straws here." She looked bashful.

"Well, you'd probably want to, I dunno ... see about getting into the dating scene, thinking about settling down- I mean! You know, unless ... unless you want to be a bachelor, or whatever, I mean ... you know, whatever you want to do." Jackson smiled as he saw how uncomfortable she was discussing this particular subject with him.

"Really, huh? Me? Settling down? Lisa, I'm thirty, isn't that just a bit past prime nowadays? How'm I supposed to find 'Miss Right'?"

"I thought thirty was the new twenty? And besides, I'm twenty-nine. You make it sound like we're old." She gestured out to the darkened landscape. "There's plenty of things out there for us to do! Get a house, a car, find good careers, start a family-"

"You want a family of your own, Lisa?" Jackson suddenly interrupted. Lisa's mouth hung open, obviously caught off-guard by his question. "I mean, you've got your dad, and mom's in Texas, but ... you know, a husband and kids and the white picket fence deal?" Her mouth closed and she gave another bashful smile.

"Well, not exactly like that, but ... yeah, maybe. Doesn't have to be right away, or anything."

"You're going to be a bit old to be poppin' out kids in about five years, don't you think?" She flushed, and gave him an indignant glare.

"What's with you making it sound like I'm shuffling off the mortal coil? I'm not old, and I won't be 'popping out kids', for your information! The way you say it makes me sound like a baby machine!" Jackson shrugged.

"Well, do you want to 'have children', then? Have your own little Lisas and Mister Rights running around? The pitter-patter of little feet, and whatnot?" She glared at him.

"What about you, huh? What are you going to do? Find some Southern Belle and sweep her off her feet, and fall in love and get married?" Jackson's face turned dark.

"Right, Leese. Like there's a woman out there that's going to be able to stand the thought of what I've done in my life."

"Well, I'm still tagging along, aren't I?" They both paused and looked at each other as they realized what she had just said.

"What? Are you saying you're my soulmate or something, Lisa?" Her face turned sour and she stood.

"That's _not_ what I'm saying, and you know it!" she hissed. "I'm going back to sleep."

-  
-

_**Of Fireworks and Life Lists**_

"Whatcha writin'?" Jackson slammed the notebook closed the instant he heard her. She was getting better at sneaking up on him, he'd give her that. He'd definitely need to be more careful about keeping his list away from her. He'd die of embarrassment if she ever read it.

"Nothing you need to worry about. Go back to your knitting, or whatever it is you're doing." Lisa narrowed her eyes at him and glanced at the notebook.

"It's crochet, thank you very much. And if whatever you're writing's nothing I need to worry about, why'd you slam that thing shut so fucking fast?" She had acquired his taste for profanity since they began traveling together, and he wasn't quite sure what to think of it.

"Because, again, it's nothing you need to concern yourself about," he retorted. "Get back to your crochet." He waited until she retreated back to her own side of the picnic blanket, dragging her yarn along with her. "Where'd you learn to do that, that, whatever-it-is, anyway? I thought only old ladies did that?" She threw her stress-relief ball at him, hitting him in the throat.

"I learned it from my grandma, and _quit! Fuckin'! Calling! Me! **Old!**_" She emphasized each word with a harsh slap against his sneakers, pounding her fist against his toes at 'old'. He yelped and pulled his leg back, nearly knocking his bottle of Sprite over.

"God, you're getting violent!"

"Learned it from you!" she replied. Her gaze softened and she gestured to the hook and yarn in her hands. "Thanks for this, by the way. You know, for letting me go get some of the stuff my grandma left for me." He nodded, nearly imperceptibly. Henrietta's belongings that she had willed to her granddaughter were going to be auctioned off due to Lisa's 'disappearance', so Jackson had driven them back down to Texas, broken into Lisa's grandmother's house, and let her collect the things she had been willed. The old lady had left her a nice collection of items, including a watch, a few pieces of antique jewelry, her engagement ring, and other odds and ends. There had even been the stash of yarn and crochet hooks stored neatly in the rec room in a cedar-lined trunk.

"Hey, it was your stuff, and they wanted to get rid of it. Figured I'd let you get it before someone else does." He opened his notebook again, making sure Lisa wasn't looking at his papers, and began writing again.

"You know, my grandma taught me to crochet and knit and even to embroider, God ... twenty years ago? And I still remember how to do this stuff. Don't know if I'll ever use it, but at least it's something of my grandmother that I can keep, you know?" She turned back to the pattern she was working on as Jackson flicked an ant off of his shorts.

They were sitting in a park somewhere outside of Raleigh, North Carolina. The impromptu picnic had been Lisa's idea, and it gave them both time to stretch their legs and do something other than sit in a car or motel room. For Lisa, it meant taking more pictures and working on the crochet pattern she had started three days ago. For Jackson, it was time to make his list of things he wanted out of life. Ever since the kiss he'd shared with Lisa at the little inn in Mississippi, he found that her name had appeared more than once on his list.

"Oh! Jackson! I almost forgot! There's going to be a fireworks show tonight at Falls Lake State Park! Can we go and see it?" Lisa asked excitedly. Jackson sighed and slipped his sunglasses back on.

"I'll think about it." He looked down at the list, seeing that he had less than ten things written down. Maybe he didn't really want all that much from life? But, the things that he _did_ want scared him. It scared him to _admit that he wanted them_. He glanced back over at Lisa, who was gathering her things.

Hell, she might be game for a few of them, or at least might be willing to help on numbers seven and eight. He closed the notebook and grabbed the blanket they had been sitting on while Lisa picked up the remnants of their lunch. "I believe we have a fireworks show to attend?" he hinted.

Lisa smiled brightly at him. "I _so_ love you for that!" she whispered excitedly, clutching his arm. Jackson watched as she let go of him and nearly ran to the car. Life was definitely not making things difficult for him at the moment.


End file.
